


Dsyfunctional

by Umeko



Series: Dysfunctional [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, Child Abuse, Darkfic, Father/Son Incest, Incest, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 15:56:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3856456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umeko/pseuds/Umeko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The relationship between Feanor and his sons goes beyond that of father and son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dsyfunctional

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t know how this dark fic happened into my head but it did. Please note the warnings and tags. This is really messed up.

It was so very wrong but he could not help himself. He knew it went against all Eldar mores but he still allowed it to happen. _He was too young, he was his son_ – in the end, all the arguments against the deed would come to nought and he would have claimed yet another of their sons. 

No one could stand up to him, not even his sons and their mother – just as no one could stand up to his atar. 

It was foul. He had tried to hide that need of his, that longing for male flesh. He had experimented like most of the other young apprentices in the shadowy corners of the forge. It was simply unheard of. He was a prince, eldest of Finwe. He could not disappoint his atar. He had chosen as his bride Nerdanel, daughter of Mahtan, his master at the forge. Nerdanel was ruddy and had the muscular physique of a ner from her work as a sculptress. He had lain with her gladly, hoping to quench his unseemly passion. It worked for a time.

Then the boys came. Nerdanel never suspected when his feelings towards their sons changed to more than that of fatherly affection. He had no fears of them ever telling her for they loved their amme greatly and would not think to shame her in that manner. 

How the sight of handsome Nelyafinwe as he approached his majority sent the blood throbbing in his loins. It was not too long before he gave into his base desires and claimed his son for his own. Nelyo was unable to resist his gentle and persuasive charm. Perhaps his son had recognized something similar within himself. Their secret affair was conducted in the safety of the forge or Nelyo’s room when everyone else was out. His lithe body flushed and sweaty, Nelyo would gasp and moan ‘Atto’ in the throes of passion, responding wantonly to every touch. Perhaps afterwards he felt shame as he donned his garments and slinked out, pretending nothing happened. 

That affair petered out soon after Feanaro caught his son thoroughly fucking Nolofinwe’s eldest son over the worktable, his long limbs draping over his young cousin with graceful ease, much the same way Feanaro had taken him. 

No, he never forced his sons – persuaded them perhaps, well before they were old enough to resist him. Kanafinwe he had coaxed to suck him off and use his slender fingers on him one night in the study. The novice Kano had thrown up after he spent his seed down his throat. Feanaro had held him and wiped away his tears, promising never to hurt him thus again. Yet before the week was out, he had claimed his second-born’s virginity – fucking him so raw he could barely sit for days afterwards. Gentle Kano always relented to him, allowing his atar to use his young body as he wished. Feanaro soon grew weary of his son’s passive nature in bed. 

Turkafinwe was as passionate in bed as his brother was passive. True, the young elf had been half-drunk when he kissed his atar on the lips that night in the woods. Kissing had progressed into groping. Before long, he had the fair-haired elf up against a sturdy elm naked and was fucking him hard and fast. Turko was probably no virgin then even though he had not seen his majority yet. It became a common practice for Turko to share his bedroll whenever they went out into the wilds. Nelyo gave up protesting after a while. No one knew what Kano silently thought behind those soulful eyes of his. 

 _“Stop it, I hate you,”_ Morifinwe was the first of his sons to manage articulating a protest when he accosted him for the first time in the bath. Moryo had seen the way he looked at Nelyo and his older brothers. Nerdanel was expecting the twins then. Feanaro made sure he slept with her often enough to sire children on her, just to keep the gossips away. Nerdanel had tired of his ardour by then, and was worn out with the many births. 

Brushing aside his protests, Feanaro had persisted in his attentions. Moryo’s flesh sprung to life eagerly enough under his touch.  It was not long before his fourth son was flushed not only from the warmth of the bath and eagerly riding his shaft. Moryo would always protest vocally but give in to his intentions in the end. He often scratched and pleaded, at first for him to stop, then for him to fuck him. Spanking and bondage seemed to turn Moryo on. 

He always made sure his sons found some pleasure in their joining. They were old enough for that before he approached them. Curufinwe had found the most pleasure in the act, or rather pleasuring his atar. He was the youngest when his atto first claimed him. No, he was not forced, nor was he drunk. 

_“I want it, atto, so very bad. Let me suck you, ride you… I can do it so much better than Moryo or Kano…”_

Curvo was to become his favourite for a time, sharing his bed or the forge on nights when his wife was away. Curvo went out of his way to please him and seek his atto’s approval. He seemed to revel in the debauchery of it all. In return, Feanaro showered him with gifts and attention. Moryo grumbled that his little brother had been turned into nothing more than their father’s whore. 

There was one giddy night where he had both Turko and Curvo in his bed. Curvo had gladly allowed himself to be spitted on his father’s cock while sucking off his brother. Afterwards, Feanaro had wondered if he had gone too far with his fifth son. Once more he promised himself it would be the last time he would lie with his sons. He would break it within the month when he took Curvo bent over his anvil. 

He had walked in on his twin sons in the baths nude, fondling each other’s genitals with childish curiosity. They were young still but old enough to start feeling the first stirrings of their loins. Without understanding why, he joined them and allowed them to fondle his shaft.  The twins had been surprised when he came all over their tiny hands. 

When they were older, he would claim them both, the same way he had their elder brothers. It was sick and he knew it, even though his sons all accepted his demands without question. It was their dirty secret, much like the one he shared with his father once. Sometimes he would lay awake thinking of other dark nights, before he was a father or husband.

* * *

 

 _Atto… it hurts… hurts…_ He bit into his pillow to keep from screaming. He was being split in half. The clumsy preparations earlier did not help ease the intrusion. He was too young to find any pleasure in the sex act yet. His small shaft lay limp between his legs, not that Finwe cared as he pounded into his son’s young body. It was all he had left of his beloved Miriel. 

Feanaro felt searing seed fill him as Finwe grunted and gave one final thrust. More seed oozed down his thigh, mingled with his blood. It had started as a game with atto visiting him at night and guiding his young hands under his robes. There had been messy kisses and he had sat on his atto’s lap. Then it started hurting. 

“Good boy,” Finwe would kiss him tenderly on the head after cleaning him up. “I’m sorry…” He would wipe away any tears and cuddle his son close for the rest of the night. It had felt good then even though his bottom would be painfully raw for days. His atto would pamper him then, letting him stay in bed and having the cook prepare his favourite sweets. 

The nocturnal visits stopped when Finwe married Indis. He had blamed her for taking his atto away from him. He longed to be held by Finwe the same way he was held back then, especially after he had learnt what pleasures could be obtained from sex. The same pleasures he shared with his sons.

* * *

 

He yawned and rose from his bed. He did not wish to sleep alone. His wife was visiting her family again and had taken the twins along. Nelyo was staying over at Nolo’s place and no doubt fucking his son. Turko was away camping. He considered his remaining sons. Curvo would be tired after helping out at the forge earlier. He had no desire to deal with Moryo’s petulance. 

“Kano,” he pushed open the door of his son’s room, surprising him at his harp. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it over a chair.

“Atto?” Kano queried. 

“Strip.” 

Feanaro padded over to the bed and sat down. He fumbled in the nightstand drawer and retrieved the vial of scented oil he knew Kano kept there. The rustle of fabric told him Kano was obeying his command. Eyes dark with a mix of lust and fear, Kano lay down on the bed and waited, legs spread as his father uncorked the vial. He would be gentle with his Kano and hold him safe afterwards.


End file.
